


My Treat

by janeisapornaddict



Category: Original Work
Genre: Complete, Exhibitionism, F/F, Findom, Latex, Porn, Porn Addiction, Pornstars, Smut, Teasing, slutty costumes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:41:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25786783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janeisapornaddict/pseuds/janeisapornaddict
Summary: A shy, easily-flustered bargirl's quiet day is interrupted by the arrival of a gorgeous, domineering vixen in a latex dress! Findom, pornstar worship and public masturbation ensue~
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	My Treat

# My Treat

“Hey sugar. How's it going?”

I froze, halfway through polishing a glass. She was back. Ohgodohgodohgoddd… 

She'd first started coming into the bar a few weeks earlier. I didn't know her name, or anything about her really, besides the fact that every Tuesday evening, when it was just me working and the already quiet bar was practically dead, she'd come in. It had happened like clockwork for the past five weeks; at 8 PM, she'd strut into the empty establishment and ask for the same thing. Nervously, I tore my gaze away from the glass, and looked up at her. 

As usual, her appearance was jaw-dropping. She sat cross-legged on one of the bar stools, voluptuous figure squeezed into a miniscule tube of plastic that purported to be a dress. Whenever she moved, the blood-red material would creak, catching and reflecting the soft purple lighting, and sending shivers through my body as the gentle curves shifted under the rubber. Her thighs, almost totally uncovered by the dress, looked almost as thick as my skinny torso, drawing the eye down along the smooth, creamy expanse of her legs and down to the pair of six inch stilettos that now dangled from her toes. How I hadn't heard them clacking across the cool, tiled floor was beyond me. Wilful ignorance, perhaps.

“H-hello, ma'am, h-h-how're you?” I did try to maintain eye contact, I really did, but almost immediately after I spoke I crumbled under her gaze, a smirk framed by tumbling locks of chestnut brown hair. I found myself looking down at my own body, lanky frame hidden beneath the crisp white shirt and black waistcoat I was required to wear. I reflected briefly that the tight fit would be incredibly flattering on my sole customer. On me, it just emphasised my underwhelming tits, so small that wearing a bra was practically a formality. Yet another reason to be nervous and insecure around her. 

“Oh, I'm fine, dear, I've just had a long, hard day at work, and thought I'd come to unwind with my favourite bargirl,” she replied, placing her elbows on the polished wood and swapping out her smirk for a dazzling smile, one that almost drew my eye away from the way her position gave an incredible view of her cleavage. Almost. 

“W-well, that's very nice of you to say, what can I get you?” 

“Mmm… what about one of those Deluxe Pornstar Martinis you make so well? I think that's what I need to relax...”

Every time I heard her say that word, I had to struggle not to flash back to my little one bedroom apartment, imagining her stepping carefully over the scattered porn mags and hentai, and sitting down on all the dakimakuras strewn on my bed. 

“So this is why you're so good with a Pornstar Martini, huh? Bet you'd make a decent Virgin Screwdriver too…” 

I shook my head, gave her a weak smile, and got to work. The whole time, I could feel her eyes on my back as I desperately struggled to focus on making the drink. It wasn't something I had to do often; while tastefully decorated, the bar wasn't exactly a classy establishment, tucked away in the corner of a mostly deserted mall. The bulk of the people I had to serve were burnt out, middle aged managers, miserable at the death spiral their careers were caught in, and too old to have a realistic chance of fleeing the sinking ship. My own burnt out, middle aged manager maintained the Deluxe cocktail menu in the vain hope that any of his peers would drink something other than neat whiskey and cheap beer, and, as far as I was aware, the woman sitting behind me was the only person to have ever ordered off it, for one very simple reason. 

“So, how much does that come to, love?” 

I tried not to shiver as she cooed over my shoulder, turning around and presenting her with the drink. 

“Uh, th-that's $25, miss,” I winced. The price was nothing short of extortionate, especially since, despite her earlier assertion, I wasn't actually that good at mixing drinks. 

“Not a problem,” she smiled, and then paused. 

“Oh, you know what? Silly old me, I think…” she ran her hands over her dress, the material gently rustling as she quite deliberately felt herself up. 

“Yeah, looks like I left my purse in the car… I don't suppose you'd mind putting this on my tab, would you?”

I wasn't quite sure who she thought she was fooling. This was exactly what she'd done the past five weeks, meaning that, this drink included, she'd run up a $150 tab. 

“S-sorry miss, my manager says I can't keep giving out drinks for free…”

I'd been dreading this bit. Telling gorgeous women ‘no’ wasn't something I was particularly good at. Hell, telling anyone no was a struggle for me. All she would have to do was push a little, and I knew I'd snap like a twig. 

“I guess that's fair enough, I understand…” she smiled again, and even that was almost enough to break me.

“I won't put it on my tab, but… what if you bought me it?”

That put me on the back foot. Then I laughed, nervously. No way. I couldn’t do that! My job paid like shit, and no matter how much part of me wanted to do everything possible to please her, dropping an entire evening’s wages on a single drink was beyond unthinkable.

I was aware that I should be saying all of this out loud, instead of umming and ahing at the idea. If I hadn't given her a silence to fill, maybe I could have stopped it all there. But… 

“Of course, I wouldn't just make you buy me a drink for nothing. That would be ever so rude of me… ” she looked left, then right, and leaned forward, conspiratorially. Without thinking, I drew closer, while her already honey-rich voice dropped to a sultry whisper. 

“If you buy me a drink, my cute, embarrassed little bargirl… you can stare at me as much as you like. Don't think I haven't noticed; all your stammering and blushing, it's not just because you're totally socially defunct, it's because you're a pervert who loooves to ogle any gorgeous women who come into your bar~”

“Th-that's not true!” I stepped back, panicking as the situation started to spiral well and truly out of control. 

“Oh? I think it is true. I think that after every visit I make here, you go home and masturbate while thinking about me. I think you stay up until 2 AM, edging while you imagine me calling you a horny little sow. I think you're a desperate, easily aroused little virgin, who's so addicted to masturbating to thick thighs and big tits that you don't even realise that you've already stuck your hand down your pants,” she giggled, and the way her chest moved meant it took me a second to even register what she'd said, and look down at my hand, rubbing away as if I was back home, legs splayed and soaked in sweat as I bulk ordered another selection of pornstar posters, doujinshi, and perverted DVDs. When I looked back up, unable to withdraw my treacherous appendage, my sole customer licked her cherry-red lips, as if she'd just seen everything that had flashed before my eyes and liked it very much. 

“Wh-why are you doing this? Who a-are y-y-you?” I gasped, my stammer worsening as waves of pleasure started to emanate from between my legs. 

“Oh, you'll never have heard of me, love. I'm a pornstar, I'm just way above the paygrade of those basic sluts you spend all your time edging for~

“I get paid thousands of dollars every shoot to suck and fuck by a very specific and very wealthy clientele, and then on top of that I get a big fat cut of all the sales my movies make,” she took her eyes off me for a second, and checked her nails, crossing and recrossing her legs as she did so. I caught the barest glimpse of a plump, puffy pussy, coated in a thin film of plastic that was the same colour as her dress, and my knees nearly gave out. 

“In short…” she looked up at me again, fixing me with a smouldering look. 

“I could afford to buy this drink. I could afford a hundred of this drink. But you're going to buy it for me, because turning weak-minded little doormats like you into paypigs turns me on. And it turns you on, too~”

I couldn't do anything except moan in agreement. It was true, the fact that she didn't need me to pay for her, and yet had so expertly and easily manipulated me into a position to do so, was enough to drive the last vestiges of common sense from my mind. Shaking, I withdrew my hand from my pants, and opened my purse, extracting two tens and a five from the otherwise barren depths. 

“Aw, thank you sugar, I really appreciate you being so generous…” 

Any hesitation was crushed by the reminder that doing this would please her. In a few brief movements, I slid an entire evening's wages into the register, and shuddered with dread and arousal as I slowly pushed the drawer closed. The click of the lock engaging was deafening. Almost in a trance, I slid her drink across to her. 

“Good girl… I have to say, I wasn't totally sure you were so far gone that you'd actually do it…” she sipped her martini, and it occurred to me that it was a lot more aptly named than I'd realised. 

“Well? Are you gonna stand there all night, or are you gonna undo those trousers and masturbate for me?”

I whimpered, and nodded, tugging them down to my mid-thigh before pushing my hand back inside my briefs, looking up at her while she swirled her drink around in the glass, before taking a sip.

“Mmm… lovely as ever, thank you,” she rested her elbows (and boobs) on the bar again, this time leaving absolutely no doubt that she was trying to give me an eyeful of cleavage. 

“Do you like them? Don’t be shy, I said you can stare as much as you like, get nice and close…”

Slowly, hesitantly, I leaned toward her, almost crouching as I came eye-level with her tits. Up close, my insecurities about my own practically flat chest flared up again; the two perfect, soft globes of flesh tied my stomach into a knot of anxiety, one which somehow only caused me to rub harder as I imagined our breasts pushed together, some unseen third party laughing as my own inferiority visibly turned me on…

I was snapped out of my stupor by a sudden realisation, a slight imperfection in the inviting valley between her boobs.

“Is… is that a…?”

She looked down.

“Oh, so it is! Tut tut, I really should have noticed that, thank you, sugar…” 

Reaching between her tits, she extracted a single black hair, slightly crooked, and held it between her long nails. It was a pube! I stared as she brought it up to her plump lips, and blew it away.

“It must have been left there by one of the boys from today’s shoot! They do like to play with my tits, they queue up for a chance to douse them in lube and then slip their cocks into my soft, wet tit-pussy, they must have given them at least a dozen creampies today…” she reached up and snapped the elastic strap of her dress, jiggling her boobs a mere inch from my face. It was then that I noticed something else; this close to her, the smell of her perfume, as well as the vodka from the Pornstar Martini, gave way to a musky, overpowering scent which seemed to be coming from between her tits… when I realised what it was, it was enough to push me right up to the edge.

The overpowering smell of cum hammered the situation home in a way that even the stray pubic hair hadn’t. She had spent her day getting her tits doused with thick ropes of semen, winking and smiling as over a dozen sets of nuts were emptied onto her chest, and now she was pushing them into my face and encouraging me to masturbate to the thought of it! 

“Would you like to touch them?”

That was perhaps the only question on the planet that could have torn my eyes away from her cleavage; I looked up and nodded dumbly, now sprawled over the bar with my hand still working furiously in my panties.

“I’ll let you, but only on one condition…”

Anything. I would do anything.

“Pay a drink off my tab, love?”

No deliberation this time. My purse was open and my card was jammed into the reader and before I knew it, I was trying to focus long enough to remember my PIN so I could blow another $25 for this total stranger. However, even as a small part of me begged for reconsideration, an even smaller part knew I would probably be ok. Fifty bucks in a single day was an extravagance for sure, but if I just cut back on porn-related purchases for the rest of the month, I could probably still make rent.

And so, safe in that knowledge, I pushed my purse back into my pocket (dragging my pants even further down in the process), and turned back to the woman, who was casually adjusting her dress, and gave her a particularly pathetic whimper. She rolled her eyes, fondly.

“Oh, ok then, here you go, sugarpie…” she pushed her forearms inwards, squeezing her boobs and then batting her eyelashes at me as I reached out and, not entirely convinced I wasn’t about to wake up with an embarrassing stain in my bedsheets, gently squeezed her tits.

“Ahhh… f-fuck…” even though I'd spent the whole encounter watching her squish and squeeze her boobs this way and that, I was still caught off guard by how soft they were. 

“Come on, you paid twenty-five bucks and that’s all you’re gonna do?” she laughed, not unkindly, before dropping her voice again.

“I guess it shouldn’t be too surprising, this is definitely the first time you’ve ever felt another woman up… here, let me…”

She set her drink down, and placed her hands on top of mine. 

“I'm a big girl, I can take a bit of punishment…” she pushed against me, indirectly mauling her own tits as she pushed my palms against her nipples, poking through the material of her dress, and I found myself kneading her chest while my own thighs involuntarily rubbed together. I was more turned on than ever, but my hands were now trapped. I looked up at her, helplessly, and received a playful smile in return. 

“Oh, poor baby girl, is the mean big titted lady stopping you from cumming?” she pouted, moving my hands in slow circles over the tits in question.

“You sweet, desperate little thing… you'd do anything to cum now, wouldn't you?”

I bit my lip, and nodded. 

“Then why don't you…” she leaned in, and there was that whisper again, the one that cut straight past my defenses and rearranged my priorities to centre entirely around her. 

“... pay the rest of my tab?” 

I stiffened. $100. $100 to cum, right here and now. Plus the $50 from earlier… I shouldn't have even been considering it. She wouldn't stay here forever; eventually she'd leave, and I could head off to the bathroom and rub myself stupid thinking about what the fuck had just happened. But… I wanted to cum now. And I knew that spending such an absurd amount for that orgasm would only make it that much better. At least, in the short term. 

I nodded again. 

She didn't even look surprised. 

“Well then…” she removed one hand, and without hesitation I pulled my purse out again, using my teeth to undo the zip while my other hand remained firmly pressed against her breast. I pulled my card out, and was about to push it into the reader again when she plucked it out of my hand. 

“Now now, sugar, don't you worry about that, you just get back to masturbating while momma deals with this for you…”

I whined in agreement, thrusting my hand back into my stained panties as I continued to feel her up, unable to take my eyes off her as she calmly popped the card into the scanner. 

“What's your PIN number, sweetie?” 

“F-ffuuuckk… i-it's…”

Trepidation gave me pause, but nowhere near as much as the sensations from between my legs, hammering my brain and making any thought that didn't involve drooling and masturbating for her impossible to countenance. 

She raised a single, impeccable eyebrow. 

“Come on, sugar, you want to cum, don't you? I know you're not that bright, especially since you're groping my big fat titties, but you need to focus. Please? For little old me?” the smile she gave me was so sweet, so sincere, that it managed to cut through the fog she'd left over my mind just long enough for me to make one of the dumbest mistakes of my life. 

“Nnghh… it's 5061! Please take m-my money! As much as you want…”

A series of clipped beeps followed, and she sat back, looking immensely satisfied. 

“There we go! Look at that, my tab's all gone! Thank you, love…” 

I let out a despairing whine as I imagined the $100 being hoovered out of my desolate account, unable to stop masturbating even as I realised how screwed I was. 

“Aw, what's the matter? Does the poor horny bargirl not have much cash left?” she looked almost sympathetic. 

“I'm sure you'll manage dear… who knows, maybe having no money to go out for the next few weeks, spending every night in eating cup ramen with your pillow-shaped girlfriends, will actually just turn you on more, drive you further into being a helpless doormat payslut…”

I was so close now. Her teasing piled on the pressure, and I knew I was in for an eye-rolling orgasm at the end of this. 

“I do feel kinda bad though, so I'll leave you a tip…” she reached under the short skirt of her dress, into her own panties, and, smirking at me, extracted a crumpled five dollar bill. 

“Although I doubt you'll ever spend it…”

She let my hand leave her tits, and pushed the paper into my palm, and I didn't even hesitate to bring it up to my face, eyes crossing as my nose was filled with the musky scent of her pussy. 

“Now then… cum for me, sweetie-pie~”

And, finally, I did, knees buckling as my thoughts drained straight out of my head and into the mess I was making in my panties. 

“Fuuuuck…” I whimpered, tongue lolling out as easily one of the most intense orgasms of my life ripped through me. Nothing around me made sense anymore, nothing except her, and my hips bucked as I looked into her eyes and saw a calm, doting expression, as if this was exactly what was to be expected from virgin pervs like me. 

Finally it subsided, and I found myself on my knees behind the bar, pants around my ankles and panties so soaked they'd probably need to be disposed of before I went home. 

“Wow, that was a big one! Good girl,” my mysterious customer said brightly, leaning over the bar to look down at me. 

“Well, I'll leave you to clean all this mess up, I need to make tracks back home,” she slugged the last of her drink, and set the glass down on the bar while I clambered to my feet, still shaking as I wiped the line of drool off my face with my sleeve. 

She got to her feet, her heels clicking as they hit the floor. As she walked towards the door, she turned and waved. 

“See ya later! I'll give you a few weeks to rest after this little treat, but then, well… maybe I'll bring some of the other girls from work to show off my favourite bar! What do you think, sugar? How long do you think you could keep your purse closed and your brain working with four of us to deal with?” she purred. 

I couldn't even reply, my expression a mixture of horror and excitement, with the latter quickly overtaking the former. 

“That's what I thought,” she gave me one last wink, and then strutted out into the mall proper, leaving me rush to the bathroom and masturbate to the experience all over again. 


End file.
